


After Chasing Sunsets

by zzegnas



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beach Volleyball, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzegnas/pseuds/zzegnas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Two against one, I'll take Zayn and you serve," Niall says to Harry, stretching his limbs right after. "Any questions before we start?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It's not going to hurt, is it?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"If you do it the way we showed you, you'll be fine," Niall assures Zayn. "Harry's going to give it to you hard, but you leave all the dirty work to me. Don't want him ruining that pretty face of yours again, do you?"</em>
</p><p>—</p><p>Zayn moves from the city to a beach town obsessed with volleyball. A minor accident helps him get the attention of two lifeguards, both seemingly intent on showing him a night he won't forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Chasing Sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while, hasn't it? I'll skip the pleasantries and say that this was written way back in February, and remained unfinished until recently. All that aside, I was inspired by the [volleyball scene](https://youtu.be/Zmfd9etbXGE) from Top Gun, but by no means is this a direct au. The image of a pining Zayn paired with a competitive Harry/Niall pretty much sealed the deal for me.
> 
> I hope at least one of you likes this, and happy reading :)
> 
>  **Sidenote** : minor Liam/cisgirl Louis; mentions of sexual acts (no smut, sorry) 
> 
> Title from [Playing With The Boys](https://youtu.be/a0AVqmP9OC0) by Kenny Loggins | [tumblr](http://jenkothat.tumblr.com/post/128740252356/after-chasing-sunsets-zaynniallharry)

At exactly 8:30 AM an alarm wakes a rested Zayn from his stupor, slivers of sunlight creeping between the curtains and onto the covers of his unkempt bed. A lazy yawn echoes through the room as Zayn sleepily rises to his feet, scratching his stomach before he pulls open his curtains to reveal a breathtaking view of the beach in his backyard.  
  
It’s been a week since he’s moved to Reyes Del Mar with his family; out of the city from a cramped apartment to a two-story house with five bedrooms overlooking the beach. Just several days ago he’d fallen out of bed to firetrucks wailing past his bedroom window, and now he’s waking up to the sounds of waves crashing on the shore, the sea breeze that enters through his windows always a pleasant feeling when it ruffles through his hair.  
  
_This is it_ , he thinks, this is the life he and his family were meant to live.  
  
The weather’s cooler than what Zayn’s used to, though he’s perfectly content that his choice of wardrobe helps him fit right in. He’s surrounded by people in boardshorts and bikinis, revealing too much or too little at the same time. He’ll stick to his usual black jeans and band shirts, his signature oxblood boots taking a beating against all the sand that gets into every crevice no matter where he walks.  
  
And volleyball seems to be a big deal, Zayn’s noticed. Every park is outfitted with at least five courts, chock full of people fighting for a spot like it’s do or die. Even after Zayn was hired as a server at the local surf and turf restaurant, he’d been asked by several coworkers to join their volleyball league, despite his insistence that he’d think about it. It’s a serious sport, and his skill levels are nowhere near what they’re expecting.  
  
At work, Zayn becomes fast friends with the head server, Louis. She’d taken Zayn under her wing on his first day, teaching him everything she knew about the restaurant. Zayn’s always been a fast learner, and putting on his best face to an insufferable customer is no exception to the rule. In the days he gets to know Louis, she frequently mentions her boyfriend, Liam—a lifeguard and, unsurprisingly, a former volleyball champion.  
  
“Why’s it always volleyball around here?” Zayn asks, once he finally meets Liam. He’s come to pick up Louis after her shift, waiting patiently in the parking lot before they head out for her cousin’s birthday party. “I mean, we live next to the beach, wouldn’t surfing be the biggest sport? Or I dunno, sailing?”  
  
“It’s ‘cause the mayor of this town is a world champion player. Made it to the big time in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s,” Liam explains to Zayn’s surprise. “His son Luke is a lifeguard too and I’ve practiced with him a few times. The kid’s got some moves, but he’s got a lot to learn against us veteran players. His dad’s got him playing with the big boys, but you don’t just get to the number one spot without working your way up. Kid’s gonna get wrecked,” Liam huffs on his nails, giving Zayn a smug expression.  
  
“So he’s brainwashed everyone into playing! All that power for one sport,” Zayn realizes, and it makes Liam laugh. “Damn, I thought I had it bad choosing between weight training and basketball at my old school.”  
  
Zayn looks over to the park just a few feet away, surprised to see only one court out of five being occupied by two young men. The blond in orange shorts has his back facing the parking lot, the other in black with his wild hair flopping about as he makes a pass. They’re both shirtless and Zayn can’t complain.  
  
Louis breezes out the door and into Liam’s arms, letting him spin her around while she gives him a kiss. Zayn rolls his eyes, though he’s not annoyed in the least. Once Louis’ fixed her dress, the three of them make plans to hang out over the weekend, giving Zayn a chance to be better acquainted with his new home.  
  
“We’ve got everything here—surf shops, skate shops, music shops, ice cream shops!” Liam exclaims, his smile so wide his eyes crinkle. “There’s even a pizza place that just opened up, those artisanal kinds with unlimited toppings? Bro, it’s seriously the best!”  
  
“All this pizza talk’s got me starving! We better head out before all the food’s gone,” Louis pats Liam’s arm, ready to leave. She looks over Zayn’s shoulder and runs past him towards the two young men in the courts, calling out, “Hey! Guys, over here!” and Zayn has no choice but to follow when Liam chases after her.  
  
“Do you know these guys?” Zayn asks when he catches up with the couple.  
  
“Friends of ours! And my coworkers,” Liam points out. “Niall’s the blond and Harry’s the one prancing around with his hair everywhere,” he laughs. “I’m surprised he can get any hits the longer it grows.”  
  
“Last one of the day, Horan! You gonna take me out or not?” says Harry in a pompous voice. He tosses his long hair back and wipes the sand off the volleyball, the smirk on his face displaying a prominent dimple. Harry notices Zayn almost immediately, giving him a once over, then focuses back on Niall. “Well? You gonna answer me or not?” he yells.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll take you out. Out of your misery when I win this game!” Niall cackles.  
  
“Not a chance!” Harry spins the ball in his hands and tosses it high in the air. He shouts, “Servin’ it up hot!” before he jumps up, laying a hard smack with his hand. The ball flies across the net and Niall makes his move, but it’s too fast and too high, aiming straight for—  
  
“Zayn, look out!”  
  
—  
  
_Wow, is he really your friend? Talk about drop dead gorgeous!_  
  
_Harry, you just knocked someone out, this isn’t the time to make jokes!_  
  
_Look, he’s waking up!_  
  
Zayn flutters his eyes open, quickly shutting them at the first sign of a throb. Everything’s a blur, shadows hovering over him with peeks of the sun flashing every few seconds. He raises his right hand and someone takes it, slowly helping him sit upright.  
  
“What the hell am I doing on the ground?” he mumbles, dazed.  
  
“I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear!” Harry answers from afar.  
  
Zayn takes a moment to get this head straight. Liam and Louis are keeping him balanced, while his friends’ friends keep him entranced. Niall is the closest to him, notices the freckles along the bridge of his nose while he stress-bites his fingernails. Harry’s right behind Niall, the cascading curls over his shoulders making him look only somewhat innocent. Unlike Niall’s worrisome expression, Harry is batting his eyelashes at Zayn, which only confuses him even more.  
  
“Is someone going to tell me why I’m on the ground!” Zayn says a little too aggressively, nearly all of them pointing fingers and answering at the same time. “One at a time, I can’t hear any of you!”  
  
Niall holds up his hand, declaring to speak first. “Me and Harry,” he frowns a little, “we were practicing—he served, I missed, and _blam!_ knocked you right out. I keep telling Harry to be more careful when he does his serves, but he just hits ‘em hard and never listens. We’re really _really_ sorry.”  
  
“So much for my career in professional sports,” Harry hangs his head in shame, hoping to lighten the mood. “I didn’t mean to serve it like that. It’s just, y’know, I was a little distracted!”  
  
“Distracted? Harry, you chase after dogs during your shifts just so you can pet them!” Liam groans in frustration.  
  
“It’s my choice, Liam!” Harry shouts back, and the two begin arguing in front of Zayn, much to Louis’ chagrin.  
  
Niall is still the only one keeping Zayn steady, and helps him to his feet when he’s ready. “You’ll be okay?” Niall asks, holding onto Zayn’s arm.  
  
“I think so,” Zayn presses his hands to his head, then shakes out the sand from his hair. “Man, is this what I get for not joining a volleyball league?”  
  
“You should go home, lie down and get some rest. No use in staying out here if you’re not feeling good, especially after a hit like that.”  
  
“I can’t, I’m scheduled for—” Zayn’s eyes go wide, and breaks away from Niall. “I have to go to work! I’m gonna be late!”  
  
“Hey, wait!” Niall shouts. “You shouldn’t run so quickly, you’ll get dizzy again! Stop!”  
  
Zayn ignores Niall’s pleas and makes a beeline straight to the restaurant, clocking in just in time for his shift.  
  
—  
  
Thanks to a bottle of ibuprofen Louis always keeps in her locker, Zayn manages to get through most of his shift with only half the pain, his cheek still too sensitive to the touch. Near the end of his afternoon break, he’s sitting on the wooden picnic table at the back of the restaurant, finishing up his tray of fries while looking at his phone. He doesn’t hear the back door open, but he detects a noticeably strong scent of cologne, something he knows neither he nor any of his coworkers would wear.  
  
“Hey, how’s your eye doing?”  
  
Zayn turns to find none other Niall standing beside him, grinning as he takes the open seat on the bench. He takes his sunglasses off and Zayn does a doubletake of him, noticing he’s traded his orange trunks for a pair of tight black jeans, chelsea boots, and a white tee tucked under a blue button down shirt. Zayn can’t believe how put together Niall looks, and he’s just as entranced by him as he was all those hours ago.  
  
“You hit my cheek, not my eye,” Zayn pushes his long undercut aside, pointing at the perfect red circle for clarification. “Took some pills, s’no big deal. It’ll go away soon enough.”  
  
“Well, I hope so. That was a nasty hit Harry gave you earlier,” Niall chuckles, tilting his head to get a better view of the so-called damage. “Never thought any of his serves would get anyone to willingly fall at his feet.”  
  
“Always room for surprises, I guess. I’m Zayn, by the way. I kinda ditched you before we were properly introduced.”  
  
“That’s all right, I’m Niall,” he grins, and the two shake hands. “Louis told me you just moved here, you liking it so far?”  
  
“It’s pretty cool, yeah. Still adjusting to the weather and remembering what street I live on,” Zayn says with a soft laugh.  
  
“Liam told me he and Louis were gonna show you around town, but um, Harry and I can give you a _real_ tour. Only if you’re up for it, obviously. There’s lots of things to do here besides surfing and eating pizza.”  
  
“You mean like knocking people unconscious while playing volleyball?”  
  
“Exactly,” Niall sticks his tongue out in jest. “I’m a certified lifeguard and so is Harry. We could’ve given you mouth-to-mouth,” he wiggles his brows, and cackles when Zayn rolls his eyes.  
  
“You’re dressed differently,” Zayn points out.  
  
“Going on a date,” Niall preens. “Concert in the park with Harry. Not too dressy, yeah?”  
  
Zayn shakes his head, chuckling quietly. “You look good,” he says to a now blushing Niall.  
  
They stay silent for a while, taking occasional glances at each other while Zayn continues eating. “I had no idea you were friends with Louis. She’s never mentioned you or Harry since I started working with her.” Zayn had said it all too fast, but Niall doesn’t seem to catch it, simply shaking his head with a small smile.  
  
“Let me guess, ‘cause all she talks about is Liam, right?” he asks, and laughs when Zayn gives him an annoyed look. “Not surprised to be honest, considering Liam talks about her all the time. But in fairness, Louis never said a word about you either,” Niall’s voice goes soft, licking his lips after. “I’m a little disappointed she didn’t.”  
  
Niall snatches a fry from Zayn’s tray, eating it whole with a smile on his face. Zayn offers Niall some of his water, but politely declines. His body is suddenly overcome with a wave of heat as Niall wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips a dark shade of pink that’s all too tempting. The scent of Niall’s cologne is still intoxicating, but Zayn keeps his distance, even if it’s luring him to move in closer.  
  
“Not to brag or anything,” Niall tilts his head, leaning closer to Zayn. “But Harry and I are pretty good at showing people a good time if you wanna take up my offer. It’ll be a night you won’t forget.”  
  
“Sounds like I don’t have a choice,” Zayn jokes, tossing his paper tray into a nearby trash bin. “You weren’t planning on getting me blackout drunk, were you?”  
  
“What? How is that the first thing that pops into your head?”  
  
“‘Cause the last time it happened, I woke up face first on someone’s lawn three blocks down from my friend’s house with nothing but my socks on.”  
  
Niall surprises Zayn with a full body cackle, bending over with a hand on his stomach until his laughter turns into a light wheezing. “You’re even funnier than I thought!” he exclaims. “Harry’s pretty funny, but his jokes aren’t as clever as he thinks. You guys would honestly get along so great!”  
  
“You sure about that? Anyone who says that to me is usually wrong,” Zayn insists.  
  
Niall stands up to leave, dusting off his jeans with a sly grin. “I’m never wrong about Harry.”  
  
—  
  
Two days later, the lead hostess calls out sick, leaving Zayn in charge of hosting duties during the lunch rush. It’s normally not a problem being in the front of house, but it’s keeping Zayn busy, and he’s running all over the place, dealing with a packed restaurant with a line that never seems to end. Despite the stress, he keeps his head and spirits high, donning his best smile at anyone that comes through the front door.  
  
As soon as the next hostess comes in for her shift, Zayn’s back to waiting on tables for the rest of the day. A rush of wind breezes past him as he’s punching in orders for three appetizer plates and a pitcher of beer, paying no mind to the loud clacks against the hardwood floor behind him, suddenly annoyed when the clacks turn into a light tapping.  
  
“I’m here to pick up an order.”  
  
Zayn tucks his pen behind his ear, turning around slowly. “Did you order by phone or on—”  
  
“Hey, you’re Zayn! I’m Harry, remember me? We met the other day!”  
  
Zayn straightens his posture, eyebrows raised at Harry’s appearance. Gone were the basketball shorts Zayn had remembered, now replaced with a pair of tight black jeans and an open yellow shirt, patterned with outlines of pink flamingos. Only a few buttons are undone to show off his bare chest, though Zayn’s eyes are wandering off to the little hint of ink peeking out from the corner. A bird, he suspects; maybe another to match the other side of Harry’s chest.  
  
“You okay?” Harry asks, breaking Zayn from his trance. “Wow, Niall told me you worked here, but I didn’t think I’d ever catch you! This is great!”  
  
Instead of laughing or following up with a joke, Zayn unintentionally blurts out, “You’re the one that hit me.”  
  
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Harry frowns. “I still feel really bad about it, I’ve never hit anyone before—I swear! Does it still hurt? Niall and I usually play in Thomkins Park, but all the courts were taken and we had no choice but to go to Jolene Park! I told him it was bad luck, he knew I didn’t feel good about playing there, and next thing I know I’ve sent my balls flying into your face.”  
  
Zayn bursts with laughter, waving off Harry’s unease with a smile. “It’s just a little sensitive, but I’ll be fine,” he says to assure Harry. “Is Niall working today? He came over to check on me the other day, I never did thank him.”  
  
“He has the day off, but I’ll let him know you asked about him.” Zayn nods in acknowledgement, his chest feeling a little tight when Harry bats his eyes. There’s no way Harry does that to everyone he meets. “So how d’ya like working here? People giving you a hard time?”  
  
“Nah. It’s not bad, but it’s something,” Zayn shrugs. “And you’re a lifeguard, right? Is that an easier job?”  
  
“I wouldn’t say it’s easier, but you definitely have to be on high alert at all times. Other than that, I get to work with my friends and meet new people and pet people’s dogs! I mean, what’s better than playing with dogs on the beach? Absolutely nothing, Zayn.”  
  
Zayn smiles, finding Harry’s answer endearing. Harry slips a bill across the counter towards Zayn and their hands touch, their eyes going wide for a moment until they pull away.  
  
“Uh, a twenty’s okay, right? I ordered by phone anyway,” Harry clears his throat, scratching the back of his head. Zayn nods but doesn’t look at Harry, using his long hair to hide his pinked up cheeks. “Really though, I didn’t mean to hit you the other day, I’ll be more careful,” he says earnestly.  
  
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” Zayn laughs, handing Harry his change. Their hands touch again when Harry takes his paper bag of food from Zayn, making the hairs on his arm stand up. “So, er, are you a volleyball champion too? Seems like everyone I’ve met has a trophy under their belt.”  
  
“You’re lookin’ at a three time all-state champ, pretty boy,” Harry brushes the hair off his shoulder with a smug expression. “Niall and I have been perfecting our craft for the last four years, we’re practically experts! In fact, I was in the running to coach it at my old high school, but the district doesn’t exactly agree with my choice of attire,” Harry opens the lapels of his shirt a little, confirming Zayn’s theory of Harry’s matching bird tattoos.  
  
“My collarbones aren’t even that distracting! They’re pretty modest if you ask me,” Harry says, adjusting a pair of imaginary breasts over his chest.  
  
“Niall told me you were funny,” Zayn says between laughs, “I guess this is what he meant.”  
  
“Did he, really! Oh, well obviously he would, it’s what boyfriends do.”  
  
“Boyfr—” Zayn chokes on the word. “You guys are together?”  
  
“Well, yeah!” Harry exclaims. “Been together three years now, celebrated our anniversary the day we met you. Niall insisted on having a night in, but we hadn’t been out on a real date in weeks. I had to convince him somehow!”  
  
Zayn stares in shock, completely taken aback that Niall and Harry are a couple. He should have figured it out when Niall came to check on him, remembering he’d mentioned going on a date later in the evening. “How’d you two meet? If you don’t mind me asking,” Zayn says, still trying to wrap his head around the idea.  
  
Harry mentions the old surf shop Niall used to work in, starting with a story about discontinued surf wax and indestructible wetsuits. It goes on and on despite a line that’s suddenly formed behind Harry, never once losing his enthusiasm. “Twelve hours later,” Harry puts up a finger, bringing Zayn back to reality, “Niall’s in my lifeguard training class with a pair of red shorts and goggles strapped to his head. Needless to say, we’ve been inseparable since then.”  
  
“Wow, love at first surf wax,” Zayn fake chuckles, his anxiety building up when he notices the customer behind Harry looking exasperated. “That’s something you don’t hear every day.”  
  
“Well, neither is accidentally knocking someone out with a volleyball ‘cause you were trying to impress him, but it’s close enough.”  
  
Zayn barely has any time to react, ready to blurt out something embarrassing when Harry’s phone chimes with a text. “I better get going, Niall hates it when I’m late,” Harry says, tucking his phone away. “It was nice meeting you again, maybe I’ll see you out of your little apron next time.”  
  
Harry waves goodbye as he’s leaving the restaurant, Zayn watching through the windows as Harry’s long curls bounce off his shoulders in time with the music suddenly blaring through the speakers.  
  
—  
  
Coincidentally, Zayn finds out that Thomkins Park is a mere two blocks from his house. Standing beside the brightly painted yellow sign with the park’s name emblazoned in green, Zayn looks to the volleyball courts just a few feet away, nearly every one of them taken. Almost immediately he spots Niall’s orange shorts in the last court, his laughter echoing as Harry runs to him for a hug.  
  
“Must be nice to have that,” Zayn sighs softly.  
  
Zayn reaches the end of the park, stepping along the curb of the sidewalk when a pair of footsteps trail behind, probably a jogger ready to crash into him if he isn’t paying attention. Instead, a hand touches his shoulder, his first instinct to put up a fist in defense.  
  
“Jesus, Harry, I could’ve knocked you out!” Zayn puts a hand to his chest, frightened. “Don’t do that!”  
  
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Harry laughs breathlessly. “Where you headed in a rush, pretty boy?”  
  
“You like calling me that, don’t you?” Zayn answers, amused.  
  
“Well he’s not lying,” Niall finally catches up, draping his arm over Harry’s shoulders. He leans in closer to Zayn, then nudges Harry’s side with a smile. “Good to see your cheek’s healing up nicely.”  
  
“Oh, you mean the bane of my existence,” Zayn laughs, lightly rubbing his face. “Went away pretty fast, huh? I’m almost back to my normal self.”  
  
“Good thing, otherwise I’d need to have Harry playing nurse for you,” Niall clicks his tongue and winks, making Harry shout out, “ _Niall, you said you wouldn’t tell him!_ ” in embarrassment.  
  
A flush rises up to Zayn’s cheeks, biting his bottom lip to hold back a smile. “Um, I live down the street,” Zayn points ahead, attempting small talk. “It used to belong to some big time movie director, but I can’t remember his name. So yeah, that’s where I’m headed.” Niall and Harry gasp in unison, and Zayn looks over his shoulder, suddenly worried. “I should probably let you get back to your game, there’s a group of guys ready to take your court in like three seconds if you’re not quick enough.”  
  
“Let ‘em take it! We’re talking to _you_ ,” Harry prods Zayn's chest with a finger. Niall leans in to whisper in Harry’s ear, both of them exchanging glances with Zayn that leave him blushing. “Since you live nearby, Niall and I can walk you home—you know, like personal escorts? I mean, not _those_ kinds of escorts obviously, but like personal chaperones so you make it back in one piece?”  
  
Zayn gives the couple a confused expression before he lets out a snort. “Thanks for the concern guys, but I think I’ll be okay on my own.” A pang of envy shoots through Zayn’s stomach when he notices Niall slinking his arm around Harry’s waist, his fingers resting on the prominent v-cut from the waistband of Harry’s shorts.  
  
“I’d better go, I can’t miss out on lamb chop night,” Zayn walks around the couple, and fast.  
  
—  
  
Zayn leaves without Harry and Niall once, but he lets them walk him home the next day, and lets it continue for the next few weeks. Soon, he’s leaving work as fast as he can to watch Niall and Harry practice late into the afternoon, wanting to simply be in their presence as the day comes to an end. He’s also treated to the sight of them constantly playing shirtless, the sweat of their bodies against his sending a rush to his core when they teach him a few moves at his insistence.

Niall instructs Zayn how to position his arms, standing right behind him so that their bodies are flush against each other. "Doing okay?" Harry asks, smiling when he notices Zayn's reddened cheeks. Zayn feels confident with Niall and Harry as his teachers, the three of them passing the volleyball around to practice before they eventually start a real game.

"Two against one, I'll take Zayn and you serve," Niall says to Harry, stretching his limbs right after. "Any questions before we start?"

"It's not going to hurt, is it?"

"If you do it the way we showed you, you'll be fine," Niall assures Zayn. "Harry's going to give it to you hard, but you leave all the dirty work to me. Don't want him ruining that pretty face of yours again, do you?"  
  
By the end of their first set, Zayn’s arms are aching and sore, but he keeps going until Harry has the last serve of the game. The sunset frames Harry’s silhouette, the last rays of the sun blinding Zayn from seeing the ball being tossed high in the air. It’s only when he hears the _whack!_ of the ball that he goes charging for it, only to crash into Niall and fall flat on his back. Zayn laughs hysterically, and laughs even harder when Niall rolls over on top of him.  
  
“Are you okay? I didn’t hit you hard, did I?” Niall asks in a frenzy. “Why are you laughing, what’s so funny?”  
  
Harry comes over asking the same questions, and Zayn tips his head back into the sand, snorting between each breath. “I always laugh when I fall over, I can’t help it,” he wheezes to the couple’s confusion. Zayn bites his lip and cups Niall’s cheek, and does the same to Harry with his free hand. “You know, you’re too serious for me if you can’t laugh about this.”  
  
“ _Hey_ , we’re plenty funny,” Harry jokingly huffs, linking their hands together. “But seriously, are you all right? I didn’t think you’d run for the ball the way you did.”  
  
“I’m fine, I swear I am,” Zayn laughs again. “I got ahead of myself, thought I was advanced enough to spike the ball. Shouldn’t have done it, but I wanted to impress you both.”  
  
“Doing a good job so far,” Niall points out to Harry, “don’t you think?”

The couple help Zayn to his feet and gather their things seated under the net. Zayn grabs his water bottle, downing half of it in a matter of seconds. As soon as he's finished, Harry starts wiping off the sand sticking to Zayn's arms, and tuts when it doesn't come off fast enough. "We've got to do something about this—oh, I know!" he quips, then opens his own water bottle, pouring most of its contents over Zayn's chest.

"Harry, what the hell!" Zayn gasps, wringing his favorite Guns N' Roses tank.

"That was a perfectly good waste of water," Niall says, disappointed. "You know there's a drought, right?"

"Save it, Mother Nature!" Harry bites back, and splashes the rest of his water onto Zayn again.

"Come here, you little—" Zayn runs after Harry, laughing as he's chasing him around the court. He grabs Harry by the waist when he's close enough, wrapping his arms around him and bringing him straight to the ground. Harry puts up a fight, his long limbs giving him the advantage to break free from Zayn. "You're not getting away that easy!" Zayn shouts, and grabs Harry's arm, giving him enough leverage to straddle his waist and pin his arms down.

"What's your deal, huh? You don't just splash people with water like that," Zayn growls, keeping a firm grip on Harry.

"Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" Harry taunts him, the smirk on his face implying an ulterior motive. "Come on, pretty boy, show me what you'll do," he purrs, biting his lower lip. "Tell Niall how bad I've been while he watches."

Zayn swallows hard and loosens his grip, suddenly lightheaded at the thought of Harry doing his every bidding. "Is that what you want, Harry, for me to punish you?" Harry looks away for a moment and breathes a little harder, and nods when he looks back at Zayn. "I can't, not like— _whoa!_ "

The weight of Niall knocks Zayn off of Harry, landing flat on his back again. Harry scrambles away and suddenly Niall's on top of Zayn, in the same position he'd held Harry for the last few minutes. Zayn struggles to break free, but Niall's a lot stronger than he looks, his legs keeping a firm grip on Zayn's waist.

"Tussle with Harry, you tussle with me," Niall grunts, squeezing his legs a little tighter when Zayn tries to fling him off.

"I meant nothing by it, I swear!" Zayn protests, kicking his legs around. Niall lets go of Zayn's arms but Harry slides over and holds them back down, and Zayn can't fight back no matter how hard he tries. "Guys, please, I didn't mean it!"

"Do you want us to let you go?" Niall asks, running his hands down Zayn's damp chest. "All this fighting 'cause you can't handle a little water."

"Maybe he's an android," Harry snorts. He leans down towards Zayn's face, quickly licking the tip of his nose. "Pretty face like this couldn't possibly be human."

Harry's grip loosens and Zayn takes his chance, managing to lift up his body high enough to knock Niall over. Sand sprays everywhere as the three of them wrestle each other, laughing hard as innocent bystanders watch them in confusion. Growing tired, Zayn finally gets both Niall and Harry on their backs, his hands holding them down by their chests.

"Getting sleepy?" Niall asks, breathing hard. "Or d'you want one more round?"

Zayn slumps over and lies between them, laughing breathlessly. "I think I've had enough for one day," he sighs, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Niall and Harry sit up immediately, cleaning off the clumped sand from his arms and chest.

"We wore him out," Harry giggles, cupping Zayn's jaw. "Look at him, Niall. Still pretty even when we've roughed him up."

"Couldn't keep him in a museum if you tried," Niall remarks.

Zayn laughs again, clearly flattered. "Just walk me home, both of you. And try not to sit on me on the way there."  
  
—  
  
When they’re walking together, taking their time despite the short distance, Zayn feels a sense of calm when Niall talks about his love for the International Space Station, and feeds off Harry’s energetic enthusiasm over any subject that comes to mind. He likes the friendship that they’ve formed, all stories and laughter and hands grazing when they’re all so close together. The only part that leaves Zayn feeling empty is when Harry and Niall hold hands, his gut sinking every time he wishes he could be even closer to them.  
  
“Can we ask you something personal?” Niall says, leaning against the railing of Zayn’s front porch. “Are you seeing anyone?”  
  
“Uh, I’m looking at you, aren’t I?” Zayn reasons. Niall gives him a glare and Harry snickers behind a hand. “Oh! You meant if I’m—” Zayn laughs, embarrassed. “Nope, not seeing anybody. Been by myself for some time now. Single pringle.”  
  
“Good,” Niall and Harry say in unison, grinning wide.  
  
“So are you _ever_ going to let us give you a tour of the town?” Harry asks, flirtatious in tone. “I know Liam and Louis showed you around already, but we were hoping they didn't show you all of what Reyes Del Mar has to offer.”  
  
Zayn scratches his head, laughing nervously. “One day,” he answers, looking over his shoulder towards the living room window. He can see his youngest sister peeking through the curtains, and gives her a wave to let her know he’ll be coming in soon. “Kinda difficult to get time to myself, aside from when I hang out with Liam and Louis, and bothering you guys before I go home.”  
  
“Aww, Niall, he makes an exception for us,” Harry preens, making Niall chuckle. “We’ll get little ol’ Zayn out of the house in no time. Bet you’ve got a midnight curfew too, huh? Or are you bad and sneak out of the house?”  
  
“We're not in high school, I don't need to sneak out for a good time,” Zayn tries not to laugh.  
  
“Harry’s just trying to get you worked up, ignore him,” Niall interrupts with a laugh. “You’ll let us know when you’re ready, yeah?”  
  
Zayn ducks his head, quickly wetting his lips before he looks back up at Niall with a realization. “Actually, my family’s going up North on Friday to visit some relatives, maybe we can do it then? I’d have the house to myself too, and you could crash for the weekend if you wanted.”  
  
Niall and Harry light up at the same time, looking at each other in excitement that makes Zayn’s insides rush with butterflies. They whisper quietly for a moment, hands animated and occasionally looking over at Zayn in contemplation. Zayn’s sure they won’t refuse his offer, if the way they’re smiling at him is any indication.  
  
“Friday’s our annual charity volleyball tournament, so we’re technically working,” Harry mentions. “Niall and I would love it if you came out to support us—kinda like what we’ve been doing for a while, except with a bigger audience.”  
  
“Of course!” Zayn quickly answers. “I’ll even wear my lucky boxers so you guys win.” He notices the flush of red creeping up on Harry’s cheeks, the same happening for Niall as well.  
  
“There’s an after party hosted by the mayor’s son later in the evening, and we’re allowed to bring to a guest, so… you know, if you wanted to go…” Niall pauses, only to laugh when Zayn glares at him. “Great! We’ll pick you up around seven, hang out for a little bit, then come back to your place whenever you’re ready.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Zayn breathes out, clearly excited. “But wait, are you guys invited to the party even if you _don’t_ win your match? What if you play against the mayor’s son, isn’t he some kinda hot shot everyone’s scared of?”  
  
Niall and Harry keep a straight face until they both burst out laughing. “Told ya, Harry, he’s hilarious!” Niall wheezes between breaths. “Always coming up with something smart, this guy.”  
  
“I-I didn’t think it was that funny—”  
  
“Oh please, you’re not going to just stand here and think we’re going to lose, are you?” Harry scoffs, pulling Zayn closer to him. Zayn lets out a little gasp, but he doesn’t resist Harry’s hold on his hips. “You’ve only watched us practice for a few weeks, but Niall and I have been playing for a lot longer than that. We’re champions. _The best of the best._ We know exactly what we’re capable of and we’re not afraid to use it.”  
  
Harry smirks and it drives Zayn mad how much he wants to grab him by the collar and kiss that damn look off his face. Niall’s giving Zayn the same exact expression, though he’s imagining Niall is the one in control like he was the other day—holding his arms down, kissing him ever so gently on the mouth and neck, blatantly teasing him before he lets Zayn know what he really wants.  
  
“I don’t doubt your abilities, Harry. Not one bit,” Zayn gently breaks from Harry’s hold, brushing past him to stand at the start of the stairs. “But my question is, can you keep it up?”  
  
Harry sucks in a breath, and Zayn knows he’s got Harry right where he wants him. Niall takes Harry’s place and climbs up one step higher than Zayn, looking rather intimidating. “It’s not a matter of keeping it up,” Niall says above a whisper. “It’s a matter of whether or not you can last more than one round. Think you’ve got what it takes?”  
  
Zayn stands at eye level with Niall, their faces so close that one step forward would end in a kiss. But Zayn resists the urge, as much as he doesn’t want to. He decides to makes a cool exit and heads to his front door, wanting to keep Harry and Niall on their toes instead.  
  
“Guess you’re all bark and no bite. I knew we couldn’t break him, Harold,” Niall clicks his tongue, and Harry adds, “Yeah. Seems like you just talk a big game, pretty boy.”  
  
Zayn whips around, eyes narrowed at the mischievous lifeguards at the foot of his porch. They’re going to regret working him up like this. “I’ve got _everything_ it takes to handle both of you,” he says confidently, “and I can go all night.”  
  
—  
  
“Zayn, were those your friends you were talking to just now?” asks his mother. She’s looking at him curiously, patiently waiting for an answer. “Safaa says she always sees you with them before dinner.”  
  
“They are,” he tells her. “Do they bother you?”  
  
She shakes her head, handing over a large platter of steamed rice for Zayn to set on the table. “You know we're going away for the weekend, so I expect you to keep this place clean, yes?” Zayn nods. He'll do a quick wipe down of the place before they get home anyway. "I hate the thought of you all alone in a big house like this, so why don't you invite them over to keep you company?"  
  
“Really? Just like that?” Zayn laughs, as if he hadn’t already thought of it first. “I’ll text ‘em after dinner, I’m sure they won’t mind.”  
  
“Always good to have friends around, darling,” she coos, then claps her hands to gather everyone into the dining room.  
  
Zayn can’t make it through dinner without a smile on his face, wondering just how loud he'd be with Niall and Harry in a house all to himself. The thought of being on all fours in his bedroom while Niall fucks him from behind, his moans swallowed whole by the length of Harry’s cock in his mouth. The flush of his cheeks are apparent, telling his dad, _It’s just a sunburn,_ when he notices his son’s complexion. It only gets redder when he's lying in bed that night, quietly moaning Niall and Harry's names into his hand, breathing heavy in a sticky mess of himself all over his stomach.  
  
—  
  
Weeks of practice pays off the day of the tournament. Niall and Harry win their sets with a perfect score of twenty-one points, easily defeating Luke and Ashton, the mayor’s son and his trusted friend. Zayn couldn’t be happier for their win, shamelessly bragging about it to every person he meets at the after party held at Luke’s giant mansion on the cliffs overlooking the ocean.  
  
Two hours and three burgers later, Niall’s buzzed on several beers, though not as drunk as he could be. Niall sends a signal to Harry and he takes Zayn by the hand, heading back to his car on the street. “Are we leaving already? I thought it was my call,” Zayn asks, looking behind to a sober Harry following them. Harry simply shushes him, and opens the backseat of Niall’s car for them to sit inside. “This is kind of cramped,” Zayn notices, squeezed between the couple. “The party’s barely started, you sure you want to bail?”  
  
“ _Very_ sure,” Niall slurs.  
  
“We loved hearing you cheer for us this afternoon,” Harry cuts in, batting his eyes. “You’re clearly the reason we won our game today.”  
  
“No I wasn’t,” Zayn blushes. Niall places a hand on Zayn’s knee, the sensation leaving him flustered the higher it moves up his thigh. “I-I was caught up in the moment, y’know? Everyone was cheering for Luke and Ashton but I—” Zayn swallows hard, losing his breath when Harry’s hand is now on his other thigh. “Like you said, Harry—you and Niall are champions. The best of the best.”  
  
“Don’t be so modest, it was your lucky boxers that helped us,” Niall remarks, leaning in closer to Zayn. He jumps when he feels Niall’s nose nuzzling his neck, his lips warm to the touch when he starts laughing quietly. “Harry and I wanna thank you for being our very own cheerleader, Zayn. In more ways than you could ever imagine.”  
  
He’s taken aback when Niall kisses him, frozen in place with their lips pressed together for what seems like hours. Niall pulls away and Harry takes his place, barely giving Zayn a moment to breathe. His moans are muffled into Harry’s mouth, eyes widened as Niall’s hand rubs between the open space of his legs.  
  
“Never been thanked like that before,” Zayn grins, finally catching his breath. The couple exchange a look, but Zayn just leans in and kisses Niall again, then Harry right after. “This is what you had in mind all along, wasn’t it? Waiting all this time so you could have me for an easy fuck.”  
  
“Whoa! That is _not_ what this is about!” Harry nearly shouts, offended.  
  
“Fuck, I knew it! I knew he wouldn’t go for it,” Niall scoots away from Zayn, burying his face in his hands. “We shouldn’t have done this, Harry! I told you it was gonna go bad!”  
  
“I didn’t say asking him to be with us was going to be easy! How was I supposed to know he’d think a threeway is all we want from him?” Harry defends himself.  
  
“Wait, what?” Zayn looks between them, a lightbulb going off in his head. “You want me to be with you? As in the three of us… _together_?”  
  
Niall looks out the window, nodding his head in defeat. “Harry and I spent weeks talking about this. We figured the pros outweighed the cons, and it’s all we’ve been thinking about. The thought of you with us would mean everything. It’ll be the same as it’s always been, except Harry and I won’t be using volleyball as an excuse to be closer to you.”  
  
“I… I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been with more than one person at the same time,” Zayn admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “This isn't going to be a Friends With Benefits thing, is it? The way I feel about both of you would complicate things if it is.”  
  
“Absolutely not, we would never do that! This is more than just sex, it’s the three of us as one—emotionally and physically,” Harry reasons, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Zayn’s mouth. He looks over at Niall with a smile, asking, “And if we're in sync, I don’t think he’ll have any trouble adjusting to the change, don’t you agree?”  
  
“I’d say the last few weeks together have been a pretty good test,” Niall replies, rubbing his thumb on Zayn’s knee cap. “But you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Zayn. We can keep things the way they are now and pretend none of this even happened.”  
  
“What if,” Zayn puts his hand over Niall’s, linking them together, “I want this to keep happening? What if I want us to be more than what we are now? And that I want nothing more than for the both of you to have your way with me right here in this back seat?”

Niall and Harry's jaws drop in surprise, and Harry's the one who kisses Zayn first in excitement before he reaches out to kiss Niall. The three of them share sloppy and tender kisses, hands all over each other and under their clothes, steam rising onto the windows from their body heat with the sound of muffled cheers of partygoers standing outside.  
  
“You’re wrong about me helping you win, by the way,” Zayn gasps, barely breathing with Niall and Harry sandwiched between him. “I didn’t wear them.”  
  
“Wear what?” Niall asks.  
  
“My lucky boxers.” Niall and Harry freeze. They exchange wary expressions, but Zayn keeps the grin on his face. “Went full on commando under my jeans, even now.”  
  
“We're definitely breaking him, Harold,” Niall clicks his tongue.  
  
“Talks a big game, but I dunno if I believe him just yet,” Harry teases.  
  
“I've got everything it takes to handle both of you,” Zayn dusts off his shoulders, smug. “And if you take me home right now, I've got all night to prove it to you.”


End file.
